


barely breathe

by helloearthlings



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Depression, Emily Potter/Ben Arnold - Freeform, Episode Related, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, Pets, Sammy Stevens/Jack Wright - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: If all Sammy wants is Jack, and Sammy doesn’t think he deserves to find Jack, then the following postulate has to be that Sammy doesn’t think he has anything left to live for.Which pisses Ben off of course because Sammy hashim, goddammit, but Ben has to swallow his own feelings and deal with the fact that his best friend is probably going to kill himself.And the thing is that Sammy’s been dying since the moment Ben met him and Ben hasn’t done a fucking thing about it.





	barely breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Listen...I know???
> 
> Merlin fans, I'm very sorry, but I've spent the last six days of my life doing nothing but Having Feelings About Sammy Stevens and there's a good chance this won't be last the time I write about him. But I have all of these deep thoughts about gay narratives - gay silence, gay failure, gay cowardice - and God, I love Sammy Stevens, so King Falls AM is going to temporarily take over my life and uh, tear ducts.
> 
> It's been literal years since I've written fic for anything but Merlin, so I might be a little rusty, but here's hoping there's enough King Falls fans out there who want to cry about the greatest friendship in podcast history with me. And Merlin fans, obviously I'm highly recommending this podcast as one of the most compelling gay narratives I've ever come across, and Sammy only came out three episodes ago. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Ben really doesn’t fucking care for what he’s been hearing from Sammy this week.

And it’s not even that Sammy wants to leave – well, of course it’s that Sammy wants to leave, and maybe wants isn't the right word, Sammy doesn’t really _want_ anything – and that’s the problem, the root of the problem, that Sammy doesn’t want _anything_.

Well, Jack, he wants Jack, which is what’s driving Ben fucking insane, because Ben knows they can find Jack if Sammy only gives it a chance, but that’s the kind of problem that Ben doesn’t have the ability to fix right now.

What he does need to fix is that if all Sammy wants is Jack, and Sammy doesn’t think he deserves to find Jack, then the following postulate has to be that Sammy doesn’t think he has anything left to live for.

Which pisses Ben off because Sammy has _him,_ goddammit, but Ben has to swallow his own feelings and deal with the fact that his best friend is probably going to kill himself.

And he’s leaving because Sammy has some stupid sense of an honor code and doesn’t want Ben to have to deal with him dying right down the street.

The thing is that Sammy’s been dying since the moment Ben met him and Ben hasn’t done a _fucking_ thing about it and –

Ben shuts down that train of thought immediately. Self-pity isn’t good for anything, not right now.

Well, someone should fucking tell Sammy that, and Ben _has_ already about six times –

Again. Not thinking about that right now because Sammy is almost certainly going to kill himself if Ben doesn’t do something about it.

And that’s what Ben does when shit happens – he does something about it.

And talking to Sammy is obviously a lost cause to Ben or anyone else he could recruit to smack some sense into Sammy because Sammy isn’t listening to anyone, so it has to be something else.

It’s Emily’s idea, because of course it’s Emily’s idea. Ben’s sitting with her in the library on a slow day, waiting for her shift to be over so they can go to Rose’s together. They’re an odd mixture of dating and not dating, but it’s more than Ben could’ve ever hoped for.

“I think in his own twisted way, he’s protecting us, protecting me,” Ben says to Emily, barely able to form the words. She’s got that look on her face like she knows exactly what’s in his head. “If he leaves, then it’s some police department in the big city that has to deal with his affairs, his….body. It won’t be Troy or Gunderson or anyone here. But goddammit, if he’s dead, he’s dead, what the hell else matters?”

“He loves this town,” Emily says with that staunch wisdom of hers, her own eyes a little misty. “He doesn’t want to die here.”

“I don’t care if he stays – well, of course I want him to stay – but if he’s alive, that’s all that matters. I can’t lose him, Emily, I can’t. He’s my best friend. What am I supposed to do? No one can talk any sense to him right now. He’s made up his mind.”

Emily bites her lip. “He needs a reason to – to stay alive. It can’t be anything tied to this town, it can’t be something that he only gets if he stays. He needs something. A responsibility. Something depending on him. Something he can’t leave that isn’t tied to King Falls.”

It comes to Ben in a flash and he could almost kiss Emily for her brilliance. He doesn’t, though, he can’t do that yet, he can’t mess with the flow of whatever this is, but he leans to hug her all the same.

“Brilliant!” Ben squeezes her and she laughs a little in surprise and Ben’s heart surges with love for her. It’s the best feeling in the world, but also the worst because Sammy might never get to feel like that ever again. Feel anything ever again. “I’ll be back – thank you, Emily, thank you!”

“Where are you going?” Emily calls after him as he heads into the sunlight of the King Falls afternoon, affection and exasperation in her voice. “What was my idea?”

Ben doesn’t answer her, already halfway down mainstream, heart thrumming for the first time with a little bit of hope.

* * *

 

Sammy opens his apartment door and he already has That Face on. That Face. The one Ben hates that’s got narrowed eyes and hunched shoulders, drenched in suspicion.

“What?” Sammy grouches. He’s got sweatpants on and his hair looks like a bird’s nest. His t-shirt is practically hanging off of him. It looks like he’s lost more weight. Ben kind of wants to force-feed him soup but Sammy would never let him.

“Hey, buddy,” Ben does his best to smile as if he has no ulterior motive for being here. Sammy is too perceptive for that, of course, and his eyes immediately zero in on Ben’s hands behind his back.

“Did you bring me another contract to sign?” Sammy arches an eyebrow, a challenge on his face. Ben’s taken to leaving them in the least expected places like Sammy’s bathroom sink and in his menu at Rose’s, so his suspicion is probably warranted.

“Not this time,” Ben tells him, slowly taking the cat carrier he has behind his back out, taking a step toward Sammy, gesturing into the apartment.

Sammy is apparently too surprised to argue, and lets Ben inside before closing the door.

“This,” Ben sets the cat carrier on Sammy’s armchair, “is a cat.”

“Is it…for me?” Sammy’s voice betrays no emotion but confusion as Ben carefully extracts the kitty from his cage. He mews a couple of times, but doesn’t squirm or try to escape, and it only takes a moment for him to situate himself in Ben’s arms and start purring. Ben had specifically asked for a laidback cat at the shelter, knowing he’d need to make a good first impression.

“I want you to have something – wherever you go next, I want you to have something there with you. I don’t want you – sitting in your apartment alone,” he says, tactfully avoiding the subject. “I want you to have some kind of companionship. Even if it’s of the furry kind.”

Sammy’s got That Other Face on, the one that he’s had most often these past few weeks, the one that says _Ben, I appreciate you, but I just can’t_ , but Ben cuts him off before he can start on his usual spiel.

“We’re all worried about you being alone,” Ben says. “Me, Emily, Troy – the whole town. And if I can’t convince you to stay then _please_ at least take something with you.”

The look on Sammy’s face changes almost imperceptibly, but it’s there. It turns from an _I just can’t_ face to a _Ben…._ face, the face Ben knows is the first step to him winning.

“You’re refusing a support network,” Ben continues, “which is very important for people who are grieving. I know. I was one of them. And you need support Sammy, whether you accept it or not. But whenever my support network wasn’t enough for me, do you know what I did? I hung out with Peas the Sugar Glider. Because Peas didn’t care about my pain, Peas just wanted me to feed him and play with him and pet him. It’s not support – but it’s contact. It’s something to hold onto when you need it.”

“Ben…” Sammy starts, sounding helpless, so Ben wordlessly holds the cat out to him and it’s when Sammy takes it that Ben knows he’s getting somewhere.

The cat mews, pawing at Sammy’s hair that’s fallen out of his messy bun like it’s string. Sammy laughs a little and it’s one of the first times Ben has heard him laugh in a long while. It pulls at something deep in his chest, this unquestionable conviction that he was put on earth to do two things: love Emily Potter and make Sammy Stevens laugh.

“Does the cat have a name?” Sammy asks, fond exasperation in his voice, but Ben won’t claim this as a victory until he knows that Sammy isn’t going to die, and he can’t know that. Not yet.

“I thought maybe you could call him King Falls,” Ben suggested, blushing a little. “King for short.”

“That’s a stupid-ass name, Ben,” Sammy snorts, not without affection.

“You do better,” Ben challenges, biting his lip to keep from smiling as they approach somewhere in the vicinity of their usual banter.

“Walter Cronkite,” Sammy says as if he’s a motherfucking genius, a shit-eating grin on his face, and Ben groans.

“Now _that’s_ a stupid-ass name, Sammy,” he says but can’t help but feel a swelling in his chest because Cronkite is their thing, the two of them together – it’s _Ben’s_. “Who wants to call _anyone_ Walter, let alone a cat?”

“Cronkite for short,” Sammy clarifies a little defensively, and the cat mews up at him. “See! He likes it!”

There’s a bit of the old Sammy in that – if Ben can even call the Sammy he knew before the old Sammy. All he knows is that whatever version of Sammy Stevens he’s got, he wants to keep it. Or at least wants it to stay in the world – somewhere, anywhere, even if it’s not with Ben.

Sammy gives him another Look – a look like he can see right through Ben. A look that says he knows he’s sounded a little too close to the edge these past few weeks. A look that says that maybe Ben made a difference no matter how small, that Cronkite the Cat might lengthen his life by another day, another week – and that’s enough for now. That’s longer for Ben to get through to him.

Longer for him to find some piece of Jack, no matter how small, to give Sammy hope.

“Thanks, buddy,” Sammy says quietly, stroking Cronkite’s head, and Ben nods. He can take that. Right now it’s all he can do.


End file.
